I love my sister Amanda. She’s funny and generous and the hardest-working person I know.

She’s also The Human Plague.

Two years ago, Amanda came home from college with one reddish eye. Five days after she arrived, everyone in our family had raging pink eye. If you, like me, have forgotten how bad pink eye is because you haven’t had it since you were in third grade, let me reassure you that, outside of maybe leprosy, it is the most disgusting disease a human can get. We all spent January glaring at Amanda with glowing red eyes.

This type of thing happens to Amanda a lot. My theory is that she pushes her body so hard that every once in a while it says, “CANCEL EVERYTHING!” and gets super sick and spews germs at everything for a few days.

Anyways, a few weeks ago, The Human Plague came home for Christmas. And like clockwork, I started developing a scratchy throat a few days later. I called my mom and mentioned that I thought I was getting sick.

“Yeah, Amanda said she’s starting to get sick too.”

AHHHHHHH!!!

That night, the scratchy throat turned into the chills, which turned into a fever, which turned into the full-blown flu.

Now maybe I’m alone here, but I’m always secretly kind of happy when I get sick. When you’re sick, everyone has to go out of their way to be nice and fetch things for you. It’s kind of like your birthday, except you also get to stay home from work and watch The Price Is Right.

It’s kind of like your birthday, except you also get to stay home from work and watch The Price Is Right.

Unfortunately, I’ve been cursed with a low body temperature. My regular body temperature is about a degree and a half lower than everyone else’s, so even when I have a “fever,” I don’t usually get above 98.6. Nobody fetches things for you until you get over 98.6. This means I almost always get all of the symptoms of being sick with none of the benefits.

The next morning, I woke up feeling extra lousy and took my temperature. 100.4! AN EARLY BIRTHDAY!

Just as I started getting excited about the fever, however, I remembered what day it was. Christmas Eve. Which meant I was only supposed to work from home half a day anyways. Then I looked at Deserae, whose job it was to be nice to me.

Deserae was in a quandary. On one hand, she is a caring wife and nurse who would do anything to help me feel better. On the other hand, she DESPERATELY did not want a Christmas flu. This led to many exchanges like the following.

“Awww, I’m sorry hon, I feel so bad for you.”

“It’s OK.”

“Here’s some Gatorade.”

“Thanks!”

“Here’s some toast.”

“Thanks!”

And here’s some Tylonol.”

“Tha…”

“DON’T LET IT TOUCH MY SIDE OF THE BED!!!!!”

Deserae left for work after telling me how far over on the bed I was allowed to go and removing her pillow and reminding me one more time how far over on the bed I was allowed to go.

After she left for work, I was left all by myself with half a bed and fever to keep me company and nobody to fetch me things. I took my temperature a few times to watch it go over 100. That was fun. After exhausting that entertainment, I sat up to go downstairs. That’s when I discovered this particular flu also came with dizziness and a headache. I lay back down and took my temperature again.

Because I haven’t had an actual fever in at least 10 years, I forgot how boring it is. Every time someone would talk about being sick in bed, I would always kind of imagine how great it would be to have all day in bed to write and get stuff done. But now with an actual fever, I had adjusted my grand plans from writing 3,000 hilarious words to taking a shower to brushing my teeth. I went 0 for 3.

When Deserae got home from work, she found a smellier, paler version of me right where I was when she had left.

“How do you feel?”

“Blerg.”

“Do you think you can go to your aunt’s house tonight?”

“Blerg.”

“They’re having chili.”

“BLERG!”

I did not go to my aunt’s house that night. Home alone, I tried to cheer myself up by watching a movie I would not usually watch because Deserae would hate it. I was not cheered. I spent the night moping that I was missing Christmas Eve and would probably be sick for Christmas Day and the rest of my life.

But sometime after the movie and before Deserae came home, I remembered that I wasn’t the only one missing Christmas Eve. My grandma wasn’t healthy enough to make it, and my little cousin had just suffered a serious head injury and was spending the week in the hospital.

After 28 years of enjoying Christmas, it took 14 hours in bed for me to realize that Christmas can actually be the worst without family, and people all around me have to do it every year. In a weird way, the Christmas plague was a gift that made me way more thankful for the things I take for granted.

The next day on Christmas, I was feeling a little better and spent a lot of the day with my family at my parents’ house. Even though I felt gross, it was honestly one of the best Christmases because I spent it being thankful for the people I was sharing it with.

Those feelings of gratitude for my family lasted exactly one day. On Dec. 26, I texted The Human Plague to see how things were going.

“Blah,” she said. “I think I have pink eye now too.”

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

LIFE LESSON #50

Sometimes it takes a Christmas Plague to make you thankful for The Human Plague.